


IT Works

by HoneysLemons



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Fluff and Angst, Idiots in Love, Lost Love, M/M, PTSD, Pining, Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Sad Stanley Uris, So much angst, Stanley Uris Has PTSD, Stanley Uris Takes a Bath, Stanley Uris is a Mess, Suicide, Swearing, These two need to just talk to each other already, absolute idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 12:24:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21392125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneysLemons/pseuds/HoneysLemons
Summary: A compilation of different IT fics starring different pairings.Will add tags along with chapters!
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Richie Tozier/Bill Denbrough, Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris, Stanley Uris/Bill Denbrough
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	1. 99 Red Balloons

**Author's Note:**

> Twenty seven years after their first fight with IT, Richie thinks back on the times he spent with Eddie when they were kids.

27 years passed but Eddie? Eddie was still Eddie, he was apart of Richie, a beautiful mismatched, broken piece of Richie that fit perfectly into his little muddled heart. Richie’s eyes still softened and a small smile graced his lips when the memories resurfaced of Eddie screaming about germs, or gazebos, or the times when he didn't say anything at all, he was beautiful. All big chocolate eyes, flawless skin save for the adorable smattering of freckles that dusted his nose and cheeks and his perfect little smile. His heart swelled when he’d watched his Eddie from afar when he simply wasn’t looking. They played off each other and bickered like there was no tomorrow and one day there just wasn’t a tomorrow for them- but that never stopped Richie from loving his little "asthmatic" more than life itself.


	2. Lovers Sunsets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie carves a little something into the kissing bridge too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -please be kind ah 😖 writing definitely isn’t my strong suit and these were some of my first pieces. Either way, I hope you enjoy-

Eddie wasn't really sure how he ended up here,, emotionally or physically but it wasn't the first time, for the last few weeks his wandering mind and converse clad feet had walked him each time without fail to the same spot on the kissing bridge.  
He’d sit and despite his knowledge of germs and the risk of splinters he always gently ran his finger tips over each and every carving hoping maybe one day he could- no nevermind…

The day was irrelevant and Eddie had nothing but time, time to think, to be alone, to dwell on thoughts in the quiet...  
Stan hadn't spoken a word since Neibolt,,, Bill, Ben and Bev couldn't come to a single conclusion. This was one situation Mike couldn't mediate and Richie... well Richie was quiet, Which made Eddie nervous beyond belief. 

Yet he walked every single day, with only his cast and troubled thoughts to keep him company, to the same spot on the bridge, where he’d just sit for hours and watch the sunset over the one place in Derry that meant something happy.  
Deep beneath Eddie's sterile demeanor was a heart aching for someone to love it back, a heart that bled just to make its point that yes curly hair and glasses made Eddie weak in the knees... but maybe that was the sunset talking.

Then again,, maybe it was something more.

Eddie turned to a blank spot of wood that he had his back rested up against and he decided- every bit of this bridge deserved to be covered in love and memories worth while being carved into it forever. So he took the small blade he started carrying from his fanny pack and let it dance elegantly in his left hand before dropping into his casted hand where he jaggedly carved a heart into the plank of wood-  
A heart for the losers club Eddie presumed as he finished off the job,, only realising once he had stopped that a delicate R was placed in the middle of his terribly carved heart,,, maybe his heart knew better

-=time skip=-

IT was dead but things hadn't quite returned to normal,,, still; every day at sunset Eddie would walk to the bridge with his blade dancing between his fingers, as he walked on his toes with his fingertips tracing the carvings once again, he came across something new, a small smile played on his lips as he looked down. 

R + E was carved largely and messily into the wood on the beam above his carving,,,   
Eddie wasn't sure but he could hope.  
He dropped to his knees and rested his hand against the carving, he let his eyes and fingertips memorise the dorky letters- As his fingers traced every messy line his heart softened at the edges, he watched the light fade from golden to milk against ink-   
He stood on shaky legs and walked, sparing only a single glance back knowing that he promised his heart that he’d be back tomorrow at sunset.


	3. Cotton sheets and clouded minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie knows something is wrong with Stan when he doesn’t show up to the clubhouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise if this is garbage- I write and edit alone (when I have time) Any constructive criticism is welcome, thank you- ❤️

They’d been to hell and back, they’d faced the devil and walked but the burns and scars never seemed to heal, Stan seemed to be the one most affected, only, no one seemed to notice except Richie. The Losers club met in the clubhouse like they did every Saturday morning at first light, they all took cautious steps down the ladder that creaked under their weight and made themselves comfortable. Mike sitting with his back up against a solid beam, Bill on his chair in the corner with Bev draped over the arm rest with a cigarette between her lips , Ben on his beanbag with a book in hand and Eddie lying half on top of richie in the hammock; but something wasn’t right.

Eddie groaned and rolled off the Hammock with a loud thud as Richie made his move to get up, a long string of curses made its way past Eddie’s lips but Richie paid them no mind. He walked across creaky floor boards towards a blue tin, he reached in and pulled out his shower cap. Stan. Richie looked around the room, everyone was giggling and talking and it made Richie’s stomach churn. “Really?” He thought, “they haven’t even fucking realised”. Richie shoved the cap into his pocket and turned on his heel without a word, he made his way up the ladder, out of the hatch and onto his bike faster than lightning.

He rode as fast as his old bike would go, he pushed himself till he could barely breathe but it was worth it. He pulled up outside Stan’s two story colonial house within 10 minutes. Without waiting for his bike to stop Richie skidded along the gravel and jumped off his bike, simply leaving it discarded on the ground. He bolted across the lawn and up the steps of the porch, knocking furiously at the door only for no answer to be returned. “Fuck it” Richie thought as he jumped the side gate and went round the back, he knew Stan never locked the back door.

He tried the door handle and with luck on his side it opened, Richie shut it gently and ran for the stairs, making quick work of them he came to Stan’s bedroom door, just before he grabbed the brass handle and burst through the door he stopped. His hand hovered over the handle as his head rested against the polished oak, he heard sniffling... and crying?  
Richie turned the handle and pushed the door open gently, Stan’s head snapped toward the direction of the sound, face red and tear streaked. ‘He looks wrecked’ Richie thought silently.

He took a step into Stan’s room and slipped off his shoes, closing the door behind him, he padded softly across to carpet to reach Stan’s bed that at the moment was just a mess of blankets and pillows. Stan had his sheet cocooning his body and draped over his head with his back against the wall. His head was rested on his knees which were tucked to his chest, one hand rested on his bandages, the other was curled into a tight fist, clutching the sheet.

Richie took a seat next to Stan; for a moment there was nothing except the sounds of gentle breathing before Richie turned to Stan, his eyes were open and looking at Richie, a single tear slipped down his cheek before his walls broke down and the rest followed, Richie grabbed the sheet from Stan’s fist and draped it over himself as well. Richie couldn’t leave him alone like this and he wouldn’t. But what happened next surprised him.

Stan shifted his head to rest on Richie’s shoulder, Richie didn’t dare say a word, so, instead he draped his arm over Stan’s shoulder and carded his fingers gently through Stan’s beautiful golden curls as he pulled him in tight and just let him cry. Eventually the sobbing turned to sniffles before Stan’s eyes turned dry and his lips parted gently around small breaths, the room was void of all sound and Richie realised Stan had fallen asleep. He shifted to get up so he could gently place Stan’s head down against his pillows and throw a blanket over him but Stan reached up and opened his sad hazel eyes as he grabbed Richie’s wrist, “don’t leave me again” he whimpered.

Richie was powerless to do anything else, so he pulled back the blanket and slipped in next to Stan. Stan threw an arm over Richie’s torso and placed his head on his chest, listening to the soft beats of his heart. It was all the reassurance Stan needed to drift into a peaceful sleep. Richie smiled down at the halo of golden curls and the peachy cheeks of the gorgeous boy on his chest and he felt his head fill with cotton as he too drifted into a sleep with one hand in golden locks and the other wrapped tightly around Stan, keeping him safe from any harm that could come to him.


	4. Summer of ‘89

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan has his first date! It doesn’t go well to say the least... luckily for him, Richie gives amazing hugs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please accept my garbage

The mirror cast his reflection back at him, curls gelled back into perfection, button down a beautiful crisp blue, ironed until it was creaseless yet his mind wouldn't stop racing. He ran his hands nervously down the sides of his face, and tucked any stray curls behind his ears, he fixed his shirt and adjusted his belt before he decided it was good enough. His sneaker clad feet padded gently down the stairs and grabbed his backpack from the foyer. He made his move towards to the door, shaky hand reached for the bronze handle, he stops and takes a deep breath, he clicks the door open and takes a step out into the cool air on creaky wooden floor boards and takes the final step towards his bike that's rested against the side of the porch, without a second thought he rides to the agreed upon destination: a quaint park in the heart of Derry.

With his hair a mess from the wind and his face still flushed slightly pink, he dismounts his bike and parks it next to an old oak tree, he combed his hands nervously through his hair knowing full well it was already ruined and opted to check his watch again. Maybe she decided he was too much of a Loser and bailed,,,, maybe he'd get a note in his locker explaining her lack of appearance, but just before Stan filtered through every possible outcome a gentle hand with perfectly polished fingers reached out and tapped his shoulder, he turned; a response already on his tongue but there she was. "H-hi" stan stuttered out quickly "you look lovely today" he said as he smiled sheepishly down at his date.

They spent the early afternoon picking flowers and looking at birds, at some point her fingers interlaced easily with his and she smiled up at him with rosy cheeks. They wandered around for the rest of the day in compatible silence, no awkward moments, just a peaceful day without any tears or obnoxious comments being yelled into his ears. The sun had begun to set as they strolled towards a park bench where they sat hand in hand next to each other, small smiles on both their lips and a gleam present in their eyes. The rosy tint reappeared on her cheeks but somewhat more red this time, she placed one hand on his chest over his crisp button down and one on his cheek.

He flinched at the hand on his scars, but she didnt even notice them, her blue eyes slipped closed and she leant forward, suddenly Stan's eyes shot open, his skin went pale and he grabbed her wrist, pushing her hand briskly away from his face before he felt his stomach twist uncomfortably and all the bile rose to his throat, he stood quickly causing his head to spin as he gagged and choked before inevitably opening his mouth for oxygen, he looked back at her, still sitting there, cradling her wrist. He looked pleadingly back at her one more time before running to his bike. He didn't know where he was headed but all he could think about was the summer, fresh waves of tears made their way down his cheeks as quick as the last ones dried and before he knew it, his bike came to a stop.

Richie. Stan looked up at the window on the second story, seeing exactly who he knew he needed to talk to, sure peaceful days were good but sometimes only Richie's crude sense of humor could bring a smile to his face and a warmth to his heart. He walked up to the front door and tapped their code, not even seconds later he heard increasingly loud and fast thudding before the door swung open and he was met with an unruly mop of dark hair, wide framed glasses, an ugly Hawaiian shirt and the goofiest smile Stan has ever seen. "Holy shit Stan, are you okay?" Richie wailed as he grabbed Stan's hand and led him up the stairs, not letting go until Stan was sat safely on his bed.

Richie sat down opposite Stan and just looked at him with a slight downward tilt to the corner of his lips and his brows knitted together in concern but he didn't say a word. Stan looked up at richie as a single tear slid down his cheek, "the deadlights" stan mumbled through the tears, Richie's jaw dropped and his eyes widen behind his dorky glasses.

A gentle hand was placed on his knee, a subtle reassurance that it was okay to stop, to take a minute, to breathe or just to not say anything at all, a reassurance that no matter what he chose Richie would be there and he'd support his decision. Still Stan wanted to continue, his voice wavered but he was determined, "I had a date- it was good but,,, she leant in to kiss me and it was like a tidal wave, I remembered being left alone, the cold feeling that ran down my spine and through my blood, I remembered the fear, the agony, the deadlights, everything with the woman from the painting and I just-". "Stop" Richie spoke firmly, "what do you mean,, the deadlights?". Stan couldn't choose the right words to explain exactly how or when he felt a bit of his heart and soul die so he gently reached for Richie's hands and placed them on the sides of his cheeks, soft fingertips caressed his scars but confusion was still present in his eyes.

It took a moment for Richie to understand but as his nose and cheeks changed from ivory to peach, a single tear slid down his cheek and Stan knew that Richie had figured it out. "I didnt know... NONE of us knew, you didnt say anything, Stan" Richie sobbed. Richies hands moved from Stans cheeks to his shirt, he fisted his hands into his collar and pulled him forward into a bone crushing hug. Stan could do nothing but smile and let a few more tears escape because he knew he made the right choice. Despite his big mouth and lack of filter, Richie knew when something was private and personal so this moment, in Richie's room, on Richie's bed surrounded by things that were all so uniquely and beautifully Richie, Stan wasn't afraid to cry or to be held. Everything with Richie just felt right.

Richie was the first to pull back from the hug, looking at Stan with his glasses halfway down his nose and not quite dry tear stains down his cheeks, but he looked perfect. Stan reached forward and interlaced their fingers, a small gesture to represent the time they went through hell together and still came out the other side as them. Maybe not everything that came from that summer was bad, Stan thought to himself as he looked over at a blushing Richie who just offered Stan a small smile that soon became contagious. At least he could thank the summer of '89 for one thing. ♡


	5. Sterling Silver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie has the biggest trashmouth ever and says the wrong thing- but all is forgiven 😌

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I read through this before posting? No. Should I have? Most definitely. This was one of my first ever fics so I profusely apologise.

His stupid trashmouth had landed him in a lot of sticky situations but God, when he made fun of Betty Ripsome and watched Bills smile slip from his face and his eyes turn from strong silver to sad liquid mercury he swore he felt his heart drop, “I’m sorry Bill” he whispered, a sincere apology out of lips that only knew sarcasm; but Bill never minded. He softened Richie’s rough edges and helped him when he needed it most, god he needed him. Bill was like oxygen, like the sun and the moon, and Richie,,, Richie was the ocean, wild and free but drawn calm by the moon.

The pages of their life were worn with time but their courage together never wavered, they found strength in each other, when together they shone a brilliant shade of gold.  
Bill never turned Richie away when he needed a guiding hand or a shoulder to cry on. “Thats my hair! My face! My shirt! That’s today’s date!” Richie cried and Bill? Bill did what he did best he stood strong, eyes like steel and held Richie “it’s not real Richie” he whispered

As he pet through Richies unruly curls “I’d never let anything happen to you” Bill thought silently to himself, because for all the trouble this rough edged, scuffed up puzzle piece kid caused him, Bill wouldn’t change it for the world;  
Because Richie..? Richie somehow always managed to know when Georgie was on his mind, he’d sit with Bill as he sobbed and stuttered through apologies on rainy days under blanket forts, he stood by him when he needed someone to help him be strong, he watched Bill watch raindrops race down the window, he watched Bill ride Silver like the hounds of Hell were on his heels but he never looked scared and,,, HE noticed. He noticed that when Bill was speaking passionately he never stuttered once.

So Richie, the soft hearted loser he was, let a soft smile crease the corners of his eyes as his glasses slipped down his nose and a peachy blush blossomed every time Bill stood and spoke with that look in his eyes that Richie falls for over and over again.

He’d never stop falling and he didn’t want to because in these moments he knew, that sterling silver was his fate


	6. Rainy Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stanley Uris takes a bath and remembers the time he spent with the man he always loved.

I guess he never knew how he saw Bill but he knew that to him he was never a loser, he was strong and loving,,,, and fearless? Maybe not. But that day when Bill held his hand and buried the glass deep beneath his skin they stood together as one, under cotton clouds, a determined look glinting behind beautiful silver; Stan knew, he trusted bill with his heart, his life, and his sanity. He knew, he’d devote his life to making sure Bill lived his to the fullest, the Barrens, the clown, the pain, the fear it was all for him. His blood tie, his leader, his Loser, his Lover?  
He stands above and talks clearly with no stutter, words truly from his heart, Stan thought, but he’s scared too- I can be brave for him, fearless for him.

His last thought went out to Bill, his last thought, not of the horrors he faced but the boy he faced it with, the one who consoled him late at night, the one who put on his silly shower caps, the one who never laughed because Stan was scared.  
He sat, he listened and his eyes never faltered when Stan needed them on him most

So when he wrote his letters and said his final goodbyes, his thoughts weren’t of pennywise or of his wife but of the one person he knew he’d never truly forget. 

“I promise Bill,,”  
he whispered softly as he watched blood run in a slow trickle down his hand and over his fingertips,, “it’s just like Summer”


End file.
